


rascals and bunny girl costumes

by skirtsuna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, M/M, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Top Miya Osamu, bottom suna rintarou, but very minimal, no beta we die like men, osamu mai sakurajima stan? possibly, suna wears a bunny girl costume, use of the words “slut” and “whore”, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skirtsuna/pseuds/skirtsuna
Summary: Suna discovers Osamu's liking towards bunny girl costumes.Or alternatively, Osamu ignores his boyfriend to watch Bunny Girl Senpai and Suna retaliates.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 250





	rascals and bunny girl costumes

**Author's Note:**

> proceed with caution! and go interact with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/skirtsuna) :]

It had been a lazy day spent lounging on the couch when Suna witnesses Osamu watching the anime with a bunny girl, or the girl with the playboy bunny costume–he hasn’t bothered remembering the lengthy title. His boyfriend was adamantly focused on watching that he ignored Suna’s advances towards him when he attempted to cuddle, so he pouts at the lack of attention and opts to rest his chin on the other’s shoulder instead, watching the show with him uninterestedly.

Suna observes as the girl with the bunny costume sits down in front of the boy, and momentarily wonders if Osamu is into that. It is rare, after all, for the guy to reject snuggling each other as he is innately clingy. Perhaps asking wouldn’t cost him much.

“Samu, “ Suna pokes his cheek to get his attention, and the other hums in response, “what show is that?”

“Aobuta.” Osamu promptly answers, not removing his eyes from the screen of his phone. Suna, however, was determined to divert his concentration to him. He was less affectionate physically, but when he gets into the mood, he always has to get what he wants.

“What’s it about?” He continues, interrupting Osamu once again, but the other only shrugs. Suna sighs, detaching himself from his boyfriend and sulking to see if Osamu pays attention. He only lifts his head slightly and glances in the other’s direction before directing his eyes back onto his screen. 

The brunette huffs as he leans over to grab his phone on the coffee table, deciding to leave his lover alone for now. He would just have to retaliate on another day, and he mentally pats himself on the shoulder for a brilliant idea.

Needless to say, he checks out an item on his online shopping cart–precisely, a certain costume.

The playboy bunny costume arrived a few days later when Osamu was out of the house to run some errands, and Suna is delighted at the solitude. After all, this was a surprise he couldn’t be spoiling. 

The costume arrives in perfect condition, and he doesn’t resist the urge to immediately don the attire. The order came with the complete getup; it was the exact replica of the girl’s costume in the anime, whose name he learns after he checks out the show’s characters.

He hurriedly rids himself of his clothes before firstly sliding on the sheer stockings up his toned legs. Suna feared that they would make him itchy, but it comes as a pleasant surprise to him that he enjoys the smooth glide of nylon along his limbs, liking how they subtly glow when the light hits them right.

He slipped on the suit next, which might have just been his favorite piece. It accentuated his petite waist trained by years of athleticism, and the high rise of the bottom emphasized his hips, giving his figure the illusion of an hourglass. The crotch area bulged out slightly, but it wasn’t uncomfortable and the dark color of the suit hid it properly.

Next came the collar and wrist cuffs, which he was swift with wearing. Lastly, he slipped on the bunny headband, adjusting it behind his ear and grabbing the two pink hair clips he separately bought to match the character’s whole attire. He contemplated on buying black stilettos to achieve the complete look, but he was already the taller of the two, and he didn’t plan on towering over Osamu.

After dusting off imaginary dust on the suit, he turns to the full-body mirror in their shared bedroom and stops in his tracks. 

“Wow… I look so hot.” He whispers to himself, posing in different angles that highlighted the minimal curves the costume had brought out. He snaps a few pictures on his phone as well, unable to stop himself from gawking at his image in the mirror. He looked irresistible, if he may say so himself, and he knew it was impossible that he wouldn’t get railed by the end of the night.

That _is_ his plan after all.

He reluctantly takes off the attire, opting to hop into the shower first and prepare himself for a hopefully long evening.

When Osamu opens the door to their apartment, he is greeted with darkness, which is unusual as Suna likes to hang around in the living room at this hour, occupied with his phone as he lays on the sofa. He knows the other wouldn’t be asleep yet; Suna never really managed to fix his sleeping schedule. 

He sets his things down on the kitchen countertop, yelling out “I’m home!” yet he hears no sound indicating that the other acknowledges his presence. Weird.

He decides to head towards their bedroom, expecting a sleeping Suna on the bed when he opens the door. What welcomes him, however, has him frozen by the doorstep.

Suna is lying on his stomach on their bed, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression on his face. This was Suna’s normal form, except for the attire. The costume was definitely a surprise Osamu wasn’t expecting he would get when he arrived home, and the unpreparedness has him malfunctioning.

Suna finally acknowledges his presence, staring at him intently before muttering, “hi.”

Osamu, having short-circuited, intelligently replies with “uhhh,” clearly not in the right headspace to answer.

The man in costume smirks triumphantly at this, standing up from his position on the bed to walk towards his partner. This snaps Osamu out of his trance, and when the other is finally within reach, he extends a hand to grab Suna by the collar, pulling him in for an eager kiss. The kiss is nothing but sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues battling for dominance, but they don’t mind the mess.

Suna is the first to pull away, a string of saliva connecting their lips as he pants heavily.

“You look… Wow,” Osamu starts, holding his boyfriend at arm’s length to admire, “turn around for me, love.”

Suna flushes at the name as he twirls around slowly, putting his arms behind him when he faces the other again. Although he was naturally confident with himself, being scrutinized by his lover so intensely has him a tad squirmish. 

Osamu was silent the whole time, and Suna was starting to shrivel under the weight of the other’s eyes on him. He was about to stutter out a sentence, about to meet his eyes when he saw them. Osamu looked _hungry._

_Oh._

Suna is only able to squeak in mild protest when Osamu roughly grabs him by the wrist, pulling him on top of his lap as he settles himself on the bed, right in front of their full-body mirror. Suna has his back pressed against the other’s chest, and he could feel rather than hear every exhale against his nape as his heart thuds against his ribcage.

Osamu grabs Suna by the chin, squishing his cheeks in the process as he forces the taller one to look at their reflection in the mirror. The other gasps at the rough action, heart beating faster when Osamu’s steely grey eyes stare back at him fiercely through the reflection.

“Look at you, my pretty little whore… Did you dress up for me?” Osamu whispers, and the other shivers as his hot breath tickles the shell of his ear. Suna nods weakly in response, action tethered by the hand still harshly holding his jaw in place.

However, this doesn’t satisfy Osamu, plunging two fingers into the other’s mouth and holding his mouth open. “Use your words, slut.”

“Y-yes, all f’you,” Suna mutters, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as he attempts to speak coherently around the fingers pressed lightly on his tongue. 

He sees Osamu grin wickedly in the mirror, his other hand venturing down south. Osamu takes his time fondling the other’s waist, squeezing his hips, and caressing the top of his thighs, distinctly avoiding the area Suna needs attention on most. Suna squirms restlessly above him, trying to get the other’s hand to where he craves it, unintentionally rubbing against Osamu’s growing erection.

Osamu, on the other hand, was not amused by this. He detached his hand completely from the other’s body, enjoying the way Suna leans his head back on his shoulder and mewls in his ear. He had sadistic tendencies in bed, and Suna was always so easy to provoke.

“Samu, please…” Suna pants, grinding his ass against the other’s arousal in hopes of relieving himself. 

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.” Osamu knew exactly what he wanted, but getting Suna to beg was definitely something he relished in.

Suna whines, turning to glare at him in the reflection as he pouts petulantly. “You’re so mean to me.”

Osamu chuckles darkly at this, nosing up the column of his neck before pressing an open-mouthed kiss below his jaw, “but you like me mean.”

Suna only huffs, gripping Osamu’s thighs tightly as the latter sinks his teeth in the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet, sucking a mark onto the soft flesh afterwards. He continues his ministrations until Suna is panting and moaning loudly, neck and shoulders littered with bites and marks that would certainly purple later. Osamu had barely touched him and he already looked fucked out, eyes nearly rolling back into his skull as the other uses the hand on his jaw to angle his neck away, exposing more skin to mark.

Osamu’s other hand returns to grope at his body, pulling the suit down enough so he could access the other’s nipples. He rubs one between his thumb and forefinger, getting a hiss out of Suna when he pinches harshly. 

“Do you see yourself, love? Already so fucked out, and I’ve barely done anything.” Osamu mumbles against his ear, biting the shell afterwards which rewards him a high-pitched whine from the man above him.

“Please, please Samu..” Suna begs, eyes starting to tear up in frustration. He wanted, _needed_ more. 

Osamu feigns innocence, even as his hand travels from his jaw to his neck, squeezing lightly at the sides; not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to have the other feeling lightheaded. “Please what? I don’t understand.”

Suna gasps when Osamu loosens his grip on his neck, eyes filling up with tears as he starts to feel euphoric, drunk in the sensation. “Please, just.. Gimme more…” he babbles, mind already clouded by lust.

“You’ve gotta be specific, baby. What do you want me to do?”

Suna sniffles as he feels the first tear trail down his cheek, watching as Osamu’s eyes darken when he pauses and observes the marks littered on his neck and shoulders. The older loved leaving red and purple blotches on the other’s skin, because it was a reminder to both of them that Suna was his. His to ravage, _his to ruin._

The brunette swallows the thick lump in his throat before speaking, “please just... touch me, use me, wreck me, I don’t care. Do what you want, just do something.”

Normally, Suna wouldn’t have the bravery to let such obscene words leave his mouth, but now he is desperate. His subconscious is hazy with greed and desire, the desire to be ruined by Osamu.

A soft “fuck” leaves Osamu’s mouth as he lets go of the other, which results to Suna whining at the loss. The dismay is short-lived, however, when Osamu maneuvers him to kneel on the carpeted floor, face merely inches from the other’s length. 

It is only then that it registers to Osamu that he is still fully clothed, so he stands up and swiftly rids himself of his clothes, settling back on the edge of the bed afterwards in front of Suna’s awaiting figure. 

He takes his length in hand, tip an angry shade of red and spurting precum at the sight of Suna kneeling before him obediently, hands resting on top of his thighs. Suna was evidently aroused, judging by the damp spot forming in front of his erection, but seeing him set aside his pleasure to succumb to Osamu’s desire has the latter gripping his dick a tad firmer. 

Suna leans in, momentarily looking up at Osamu to ask permission through his eyes. The latter only taps the head of his cock on his lips, and he takes it as a sign to continue. 

The both of them moan in unison when Suna latches his mouth onto the head, licking it as if it were a lollipop before taking it in further and sucking gently. Osamu closes his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure when Suna presses open-mouthed kisses along his length. 

Suna continues on doing this, only giving Osamu’s cock gentle licks and sloppy kisses. It was pleasurable, but it was certainly not enough. 

Osamu grips the other’s hair roughly before yanking his head away. “Stop teasing, baby. Do you want me to remind you that I’m the one in control here?”

Suna moans wantonly, and he can’t tell if it was due to the hair pulling or the other’s words. Nonetheless, he looks up at his lover’s eyes, taunting him to make the next move. They were both extremely aroused, but a little teasing wouldn’t hurt, right?

Osamu, however, had other plans. After all, he was never the patient one between the two. He tightens his grip on Suna’s hair as he uses his other hand to guide his length in between the other’s lips.

“Be a good boy and stay still for me, hm?” Osamu hums as he navigates Suna by the hold he had on his head to take his length inch by inch, urging Suna to take all of him until his nose is touching his abdomen. Suna swallows, and Osamu’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull as his grip tightens even further on the other’s hair. When he manages to blink his eyes open, the sight that greets him almost has him blowing his load right then and there. 

Suna is staring up at him, shiny red lips stretching around his girth, his flushed cheeks full from taking the other’s entire length into the back of his throat. However, what catches Osamu’s attention are the black tear streaks running down his face as he blinks through sticky eyelashes. Osamu recalls that the other had eyeliner when he initially greeted him, but the thought is swiftly forgotten when Suna moans around his length, sending vibrations that stimulate his cock from tip to base.

“Fuck,” Osamu pants, “you like having my dick down your throat that much?”

The question only has Suna moaning louder, cheeks turning into a darker shade of red as he slowly pulls away from the other’s cock. He makes sure to suck harder at the tip before letting go, creating a string of saliva connecting his lips to the scarlet head profusely spilling out precum. He pants around the tip, occasionally pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses around the length as he catches his breath. 

Suna crying during sex wasn’t anything new to the pair. In fact, Osamu enjoyed it a little too much; but something about seeing the other’s dark, obsidian tears endlessly streaming down his rosy cheeks makes his dick twitch more violently than usual. Perhaps it was the stark contrast on his skin, or the way the eyeliner makes the tears visible—whatever the reason was, Osamu indulged in it.

He brings his thumb to Suna’s face to caress his cheeks gently before letting the digit travel to the latter’s chin, finger damp as it glides through the spit gathered at the side of his mouth. Suna opens his mouth at the action, and Osamu smirks as he takes the opportunity to push his thumb past the former’s lips. 

“My pretty cockslut, always gotta have his mouth full, huh?” Osamu utters. Suna tries to speak, but the other applies more pressure onto his tongue, effectively rendering him speechless so he opts to nod instead. 

When Osamu senses that the other wants to say something, he withdraws his thumb, smearing his spit-covered digit along Suna’s tear-stained cheek. 

“Mmm.. please…” Suna babbles, looking absolutely fucked out as drool starts dribbling down his chin. Osamu grins at the visage.

“What is it, love? Tell me.”

“Want’ya ta.. come on m’face….” Suna manages to finish, eyebrows scrunched together pleadingly as more tears stream down his face. He leans his cheek on Osamu’s thigh, attempting to regain his composure. 

Osamu grasps the base of his length firmly, willing his mind and erection to calm down. As much as the offer was tempting, he didn’t want to come so early in the night. Besides, as fucked out as Suna looked currently, he was sure he could push the brunette’s limits some more.

Osamu cards his fingers through the other’s hair, gliding through the knots formed by his excessive pulling earlier. “I would love to, baby, but…”

“Y’don’t wanna?” Suna interrupts him, pouting as he begs Osamu with his eyes. The latter is almost tempted to ditch his plans and finish himself off on Suna’s face, but he manages to get a hold of himself.

“Wouldn’t you rather I come in your ass when I fuck you against the mirror?” 

Osamu is the one to grin now as Suna’s eyes widen almost comically, before he’s nodding enthusiastically, using the former’s thighs as leverage as he hoists himself up to straddle Osamu once again, this time facing him.

“So eager… Do you wanna get railed that bad?” Osamu snickers, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist as he leans in to peck him shortly. Suna whines, grinding down impatiently. Osamu wonders if the costume is starting to get uncomfortable for him, seeing as his erection is begging to be freed. 

“Samu, please, please,” Suna begs as tears start to form once again along his eyes, and Osamu coos as he wipes them away with his thumbs. 

“Shh, don’t be a crybaby now. Be a good boy for me, face the mirror, and put your hands up on the wall, yeah?” Suna sniffs as he nods at the command, holding onto the other’s shoulders to support himself as he stands up on wobbly legs. He stumbles a little, and Osamu has to give him a helping hand so his knees don’t give out on him.

Osamu smiles at the image before him; Suna, ass pushed out as he bends over with his hands on the wall supporting his weight. He leans back a little to reach their drawer, grabbing the bottle of lube conveniently placed on top of the mess cluttered inside. Suna sees this and makes a move to remove the suit, hands reaching back to unzip the attire when Osamu stops him. 

“Don’t,” Osamu dictates, “keep the costume on.”

Suna gulps at the vivid illustration his mind provided him–Osamu fucking him raw as he pants over the mirror, fogging up the glass–and shivers. “B-but what about the stockings?”

Osamu doesn’t reply, at least not verbally. When he is back in his original position, seated by the edge of the bed, he grabs Suna’s hips harshly and before he could protest, Osamu digs his fingers into the nylon and _rips._

Suna gasps loudly as the cold air hits the area of his bum once covered by the stockings, now bare as Osamu continues to tug until the stockings end a few inches below his butt.

“They were nice though,” Suna complains, looking back to see Osamu grinning triumphantly, groping his ass and spreading the cheeks apart before giving each a sharp slap. The taller whimpers at the action, clenching his fists against the wall as he bites his lip to prevent the wail from coming out. 

Osamu is rushed in his actions, pushing the fabric of the suit aside as he mutters, “I’ll just buy you new ones.”

Suna fails to dwell on his words when the other leans closer and spreads his cheeks open, licking at the pink hole with his tongue before blowing air over the rim. 

Suna releases the loudest moan that night, knees threatening to buckle as the other man laps at the tight rim of muscle like a starved man, hooking his thumb inside to further spread it open. He can feel his eyes involuntarily roll to the back of his head, chest heaving as he tries to inhale as much oxygen as he could. 

His mouth drops open when Osamu’s tongue slithers inside his hole, wiggling around and lapping at the soft flesh. When he sucks harshly at the rim, his name spills repeatedly past Suna’s lips, as if in the form of a prayer. 

The brunette whines loudly when Osamu pulls away, but he is quick to fill the void, figuratively and literally, by plunging his index finger into the other’s hole after warming up the lube in his hand. The digit glides in with no resistance, leaving Osamu questioning, “did you prepare yourself earlier?”

Suna blushes at the query, mumbling in confirmation. Osamu smiles at the response, and he almost laughs at the irony of this debauched man getting shy and demure at such a question.

Osamu pushes in another finger, scissoring them as he teases, “aw, is my baby boy getting shy? How cute of you, fingering yourself for me, hm?”

Suna sobs at the remark, knees weakening as Osamu curls his fingers up and rubs against his prostate precisely. He bites his lip hard enough that it pierces his skin and bleeds, trying to keep his noises at bay. 

Osamu notices this and purposefully strokes his prostate in circles, and Suna cannot control the gasp that leaves his lips. “Let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear you scream until your throat is raw and the only word you can utter is my name.”

Suna groans at this as the other simultaneously adds another finger, thrusting them in and stretching him open. He’s been waiting for so long, and he just wants to be fucked raw already, goddamnit.

“Samu, please please just.. Just put it in already.” He wails, tears streaming down his face as he crosses his arms in front of himself and leans his head on it, leaving marks on the mirror as he pants against its surface. 

Osamu is getting pretty terse himself, so he takes pity on the other and slowly pulls his fingers out. The other whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but he attempts to wait patiently as Osamu slicks up his own length, standing up to reposition Suna so his hips are directed towards the former’s erection. 

When Osamu deems his dick slick enough, he holds it firmly in his hand and lines it up with Suna’s ass, gliding it once over the crack before slowly pushing in the tip inside the other’s pink, gaping hole. 

They both moan loudly at the sensation, having anticipated this feeling the moment they locked eyes in the bedroom. Osamu has only pushed in the tip, but before he proceeds he grabs Suna’s hands to place them properly on the wall beside the mirror. “Hold tightly, sweetheart.”

After his warning, he grabs the other’s hips with both hands and slams his entire length in one go, just like how Suna likes it. Suna’s breath caught in his throat at the intrusion; it wasn’t painful but it burned, and he needed a few seconds to settle down and accommodate the other’s full length.

Osamu waits for Suna to be comfortable enough to move, and when the latter starts to push his hips back impatiently, Osamu’s grip on his hips tighten as he pulls out slowly, looking down to stare as the brunette’s hole stretches around his cock obscenely. When only the tip is inside, Osamu sheathes his full length once again, causing Suna to grip the mirror’s frame for dear life as the former immediately catches a ruthless pace. 

When the pace he sets is steady, Osamu removes one hand from the other’s hip to grip at his neck, fingers crawling around his jaw before forcing him to stare at their reflection in the mirror.

“Look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well like the good cockwhore you are.” Osamu speaks, hips unrelenting as he continues to piston his length into the other, every snap of their hips reverberating around the room. Suna can only moan and gasp with every thrust, as if the air was punched out of his chest, unable to formulate words.

He lets Osamu manhandle him, body pliant and willing as the other pushes his hips back with every thrust, plunging his dick even deeper. His biceps start to burn with the effort of holding up his weight, and he eventually gives up as his elbows buckle, using his forearms as support as he leans his forehead on them. 

Osamu notices this and grabs him by the hair to pull his head back harshly. Suna cries at the action, neck straining as the other continues to plow his length into his backside. 

“What, can’t even follow directions? I told you to hold yourself up properly, didn’t I? And here I thought you were a good boy.” Osamu tuts, pace slowing down as Suna whines at the abrupt change.

“No, no please m’a good boy! M’sorry…” Suna begs, hoisting himself up once again, planting his palms on the wall determinedly even though his arms burn with exertion. Osamu smirks at him through their reflection, donning on a smug expression at the other’s submissiveness.

Osamu stops entirely and holds Suna by the hips rigidly. “Good. Be my good cockslut and keep watching.”

As soon as he utters the last word, he goes at a pace even more unforgiving than the last, and Suna’s body keeps being jolted forward even as he exerts his full effort into holding himself up properly. He loved being roughed up like this, loved when Osamu would treat him like a rag doll for his own pleasure, so he endured the discomfort. 

Soon enough, they were both reaching their highs, with Suna repeatedly moaning out Osamu’s name like a wicked spiel, as if that was the only word his brain could develop. Osamu’s hips start to stutter, pace getting unsteady as he chases the euphoric bliss, leaning forward to latch his lips onto Suna’s skin. 

“Samu, samu, samu… m’coming!” Suna warns, and after his proclamation Osamu wraps an arm around his waist, hand reaching below to cup his erection. That had been the last straw for Suna before his arms completely gave up, face planting on the glass as he shakes violently, the front of his costume dampening rapidly as streams of come surge from him. 

Osamu isn’t far from his release either, and with a few harsh thrusts he comes too, groaning loudly as he buries his face in Suna’s neck, panting hotly against it as waves of pleasure overcome him. He shallowly shoves as he rides his orgasm, come painting the inside of Suna’s walls as the other is still exhaling against the glass, causing the surface to fog up excessively.

The both of them are left breathing heavily, bodies spent as they both lean on the mirror. Someone would have to clean that up tomorrow, but as of the moment they were too out of it to care about the mess they made.

Suna is the first to protest, groaning weakly as he tries to detach himself from the mirror, but Osamu’s dead weight is squishing him against the glass heavily. 

“Mmfh.. Samu… too heavy,” Suna retorts, still trying to push himself up but to no avail. It takes a few moments before Osamu reluctantly separates from him, pulling his flaccid length out of the other’s hole. Immediately, his come leaks out of the red, raw hole, and his dick twitches weakly at the sight.

As soon as Suna pulls away from the mirror, his knees buckle below him and Osamu has to hold him by the waist to keep him upright. Suna’s legs are still trembling, struggling to position himself properly. He sighs, looks behind to stare at Osamu before he pleads, “carry me to the bathroom, please?”

Osamu has never been able to resist Suna, so all he can do is agree, hoisting the other up so his legs are wrapped tightly around his waist as he ventures towards their bathroom. 

Even as they are seated in the bathtub, Osamu continues to pamper Suna, gently combing through the strands of soft hair as he rinses off the shampoo. He grabs a loofah and lathers the soap all over Suna’s drained body as the latter struggles to fight off slumber while they are still cleaning up. 

In the end, Suna fell asleep against Osamu’s chest and the latter had to carry him back to their bedroom, wetting the bed as they laid down, but Osamu doesn’t seem to mind as he falls asleep shortly after, snuggled up in each other’s limbs.


End file.
